


a million things i want

by lousea



Category: Cricky - Fandom, Football RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs in a Car, Canon Compliant, Emotional Roller Coaster, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Laughter During Sex, Light Spanking, M/M, Post the Euro 2016 final, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7465623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lousea/pseuds/lousea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the European Championship final, Cristiano is feeling a bit overwhelmed at the thought of achieving a lifelong dream. Ricky helps him blow off some steam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a million things i want

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote this. I really hope you enjoy it, I tried my best.
> 
> The way in which I wrote Ricky and Cristiano is based solely on my personal belief of what kind of people they are. This is a work of fiction and it was written for fun. Please don't repost this without my permission.
> 
> If you have any questions or would like to share your thoughts with me, please comment or visit my tumblr - www.thecrickyleague.tumblr.com :)

The cheering of the crowds was deafening and the only thing he could hear was the pumping sound of Cristiano's pulse.

He could feel it too, Cristiano's heart beating through that amazing body and into his own, muting everything else as they stood there holding each other. Ricky knew he should step back, let his boy walk the field with his teammates but Cristiano was gripping him so hard, so shamelessly that all he could do was hold him too, whispering into his ear: _Amo-te. You did it. I love you so much._

He was too shocked to cry, too dazed to even think about what this meant for them both. His shoulder was wet with Cristiano's tears and the pride Ricky felt made him so weak in the knees that he had no strength to hold them up when Cris tumbled to the ground and they were falling, their bodies pressed together like they would never part. He buried his face in Cristiano's neck and for a moment he wished they were alone already, in their bed at home so he could process what had happened but he stopped those thoughts – now was the time for glory.

His own pulse getting faster and faster, he sucked a quick kiss into Cris' neck, not caring about the whole world seeing it and then let him out of his arms. He watched as Cristiano walked towards the others, his slight limp reminding Ricky of the horrific moment when he had to stand by as Cris cried on the pitch. Ricky's heart still physically hurt at the thought so he shook that off as well, locking it in a space in his head marked "later". He cheered from the sidelines when the team met in the middle of the field, his eyes never leaving the figure he would recognize anywhere from any distance – Cristiano's tall stance and the particular way in which he moved, something about it so different and so familiar after so many years.

After that, every minute was ruled by the anticipation to see something he knew he would cherish for the rest of his life – his boy raising the trophy.

He made his way to the dressing rooms earlier, waiting for Cristiano to come in to change and cool off before the celebration. He knew Cris would beat all of his teammates to it just to spend a few seconds alone with him and when he entered, his face flushed with tears and smiles, Ricky let out a huge sigh of relief and jumped into his arms, his legs resting on Cris' hips.

Their mouths crashed and Ricky couldn't help but catch Cristiano's lower lip between his teeth and dig impatient fingers into his back. He squeezed his thighs, pressing himself into the younger man's chest and feeling the low vibratto of a groan in Cristiano's throat that only made him want to get even closer, tighter and just _more_. Then, he remembered Cris' knee and smiled a teenager smile, embarassing himself with thoughts of how strong and tough his man was.  
  
"I'm probably busting your knee even more right now" he murmured, looking into Cris' eyes and almost burning in the flame that was still shining in them.  
  
"Yeah get off, _bochechudo_. That knee is more expensive than our house" Cristiano smirked and pecked his lips one last time before setting him down on the ground.  
  
"Say that to the cameras, babe. I can't wait for the outrage about how arrogant you are" Ricky swatted his ass playfully as Cris bent down to adjust the band on his injured knee and the look he shot back proved that he was looking forward to getting back to the hotel as well.

But first, celebration.

The door burst open and the first face they saw melted Ricky's heart.

"Daddy!" their son exclaimed and as Ricky watched his two boys, Cristiano's arms wrapping around Junior's small body and a heavy sigh leaving his chest, he felt for the first time a stinging in his eyes, a fog of unshed tears clouding his vision for a few seconds.

"We won, we won, we won!" little Cristiano danced around the room and Ricky snorted with laughter, imagining that big Cristiano would gladly do the same.

But there were cameras there already so Ricky took a step back to talk to some of the other players, knowing that he and Cris had already exceeded the amount of affection they could show each other on TV. He guided Junior out of the locker rooms and took the steps up to the podium, waiting for the moment he knew Cristiano had been dreaming of since he was a boy in Madeira.

Ricky's throat tightened even more as he watched the players make their way up the stairs and waited for Cristiano to appear, right at the end of the line, his limp still very visible. Ricky let himself think of that dreadful moment when he saw Cris fall to the ground and he knew right away – that was the end of the final match for him. He also knew he had never felt such anger before like when he realised the faul was intentional – it was their plan right from the beggining, to take out the best player as fast as possible. Seeing Cris drop to his knees again and again as he tried to fight through the pain had Ricky in tears, so much so that he had to take a step back into the exit of the stadium in fear of a curious paparazzi. Having to conceal his support for Cristiano in such a difficult moment had been one of the hardest things he's ever had to do in his life and when he saw the medics rushing into the field with a stretcher, he didn't care anymore. He took Cris' hand briefly as they carried him inside and then let them do their job, but it was done, it was over, Cristiano wasn't coming back to the pitch and the dream of scoring and securing the win was no longer to be fulfilled. He was called into the room and he asked for them to be left alone. Cris screamed some incoherent words that Ricky knew he didn't mean and then he just cried as Ricky stroked the broad, shaking shoulders.

"Cris" Ricky said quietly, holding him close as he calmed down and looked up at him, "I know this is not right and you don't deserve it. You're the one who made all of this happen and you deserve to be out there to help us win. But you can still do that. You need to wipe those tears and get out there right now."

"I can't play, Ricardo, I tried but I can't do it. It's over" Cris mumbled and hid his face in his hands again but Ricky wasn't having it.

"Hey, you can be a smug asshole when it comes to yourself but do not lose faith in the team. They can do this but you have to be there to show them the spirit. We can still win."

And at that, Cristiano smiled. And then nodded. And then stood up and limped towards the door, his muscles tense and his gaze focused.

"Well? They might need me but I need you, so what are you waiting for?" Cris smiled, looking back at him and as they made their way back to the pitch, their hands intertwined for a second and Ricky actually believed his own words. They could do this.

And they did. They pulled through the agonizing full time game and then they cried when Eder scored. Now Ricky felt his heart sink to his feet and back up again as Cristiano took the place in the middle of the balcony and finally, _finally_ he was raising the trophy, the roar of the crowd thundering through the stadium and Ricky knew there was no point fighting tears. He squeezed Junior's shoulder, smiled at Dolores and let himself cry like he hadn't cried in years.

Even after everything they've been through, he was still surprised how much this meant to him, him personally and how he considered it somewhat of a victory of his own. He remembered the night that they decided to have a baby together, Cris in his arms on their terrace as they watched the rain pour into the night.

_"When I met you, I told you you would never be more important than football to me” Cris had said, lifting his head up to look him right in the eye, so fiercely like only he could, "I told you that football will always be first, that I will never choose a date over training or leave my carreer for you. But I also told you that you could still be above it if you share it with me and help me achieve my goals. In return I offered to do the same for your passions. And look at us now."_

_He shifted to lie on his side, his left leg thrown over Ricky's waist as he took his hand and squeezed it tight._

_"Now I want to share this with you too. A family, a real home. Let's have a kid and then another one and another and let's be the worst parents ever and make them play football so I can finally have a team that would listen to me" he added and the night ended in Ricky chasing him around the garden and tackling him to the ground like he wasn't the best football player in the world. Also, that soaking wet, grass and dirt everywhere kind of sex had been the best in Ricky's life._

And Cris was right, they did succeed. In every aspect, they actually managed to create a life together and Ricky had never wished for a different one. As Cris passed the trophy on, he craned his neck and for a brief moment their eyes met, giving Ricky goosebumps all over his body. He screamed at the top his lungs _vamos, vamos_ and _vamos_ again until his throat was sore, thinking about all the people who were shouting the same in front of their televisions back in Portugal - the country Cris had given so much joy to.

He was selfishly glad when the team left the balcony to walk the field, because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep it together much longer if he were to be left alone to his thoughts. He whispered to Junior to wait with his grandmother and joined Cris as he made his way down the steps. The first thing Cristiano did was give him the Cup, a smile dancing wildy on his face and Ricky's first thought was a surprise at how heavy it was, how important in his hands. He handed it back and smirked when Cris took it like a puppy takes it's bone.

"Nobody is going to steal it from you now, _querido_ " he joked and Cris mockingly pretended to run away from him, protecting the trophy from even just his words.

They walked the field with a spring in their step, Ricky briefly worrying about Cris' knee as he jumped up and down, the pain gone in the wave of adrenaline so thick around them that he could almost taste it, feeling dizzy again. He felt an electric shock course through his entire body as Cristiano's arm brushed against his side, his urge to touch Ricky so clear for everyone to see. Ricky handed him his champion t-shirt as a pretext to connect at least a fraction of their bodies and he got lost in it, adjusting the fabric on Cris' waist and resting a hand on his hip, a favourite place of his.

Today, he let himself be careless.

Let them watch.

***  
 

An hour later they were in the car, laughing at something they had found online as videos of their hug at the end of the match were already going viral. Cris had arranged for a limo to wait for them in case they won (because of course he did) and now Ricky's head was resting in his lap, the partition between them and the driver tightly shut.  
  
"Look at this comment, _querido_. Someone wrote you look like a baby koala" Cris said through actual tears of laughter, a laughter Ricky hadn't heard in months - spontaneous and loud enough to make him jump.  
  
"How dare they, I am a strong, manly man" Ricky smirked and took the phone out of Cris' hand. He played the video and watched himself fall into Cristiano's arms on the pitch, his fingers gripping the fabric around the glorious number 7. He let out an exasperated sigh. He would be lying if he said he didn't see where the koala comparison came from.  
  
"Oh yeah? Not stronger than me, surely."  
  
Ricky knew that game better than football itself.

It would start with Cris being a brat, contradicting every word he'd say and usually ended with them both thrown over a bed, their sweat soaking into the silk sheets.

But they were in the car and it would be hours until they could be alone. He could feel Cristiano's rock hard thighs under his head and the heat radiating from his body was making it hard for Ricky to breathe.

The thing that was the hardest to ignore though was Cris' smell, something Ricky had been fascinated by ever since they were kids. Cris always wore cologne, he even fucking used it before a game, but the smell Ricky had in mind was a natural scent of Cristiano's body that reminded him of the first hours after a storm and ripe fruit mixed with musk, creating a whole magical world in Ricky's imagination as he turned his head and brushed his nose against Cris' abs.

The sky darkened by each mile they made out of the city on their way to the hotel. The whole team and crew were probably already there, because Cris wanted a big entrance and told the driver to wait and leave a few minutes later than everybody else. Dolores had taken Junior with her and Ricky knew his son would be fast asleep the moment his grandmother took him into her arms. So, they were alone and the limo was obscene, he thought, making a mental note to scold Cris for it later.

But now Ricky didn't want to talk or to think and when he got up and dropped to his knees, the look on Cristiano’s face told him that he didn’t either.

 "God, it feels like I've been waiting for this for years" Ricky murmured into Cris' skin as he hovered over his stomach and lower, lower down the muscles that led under the thin shorts.   
  
"What do you mean _years_ , we had sex last night" Cris mocked, his voice hitching in his throat a little bit as Ricky sucked into his right hip, leaving teeth marks just above the waistline.  
  
"Who says we're going to have sex tonight? Do you have any idea how tired I am?"  
  
Cris raised an eyebrow, his arms completely lax on the leather seat.

" _You're_ tired?"  
  
His eyes were laughing and Ricky wished he would never loose that sparkle that shined into the world as he grabbed Cris' shorts and pulled them down halfway to his knees. Cristiano was half hard already, but he didn't move or even flinch, just flexed his muscles a bit when Ricky ghosted a quick, almost unnoticeable hand over his cock.   
  
"Shut up, you barely spent twenty minutes on that pitch tonight" Ricky said, hoisting himself up and closing Cristiano's mouth with his own lips before he could speak.  
  
Cris opened his mouth, suddenly compliant. Ricky lifted his hand and put it on the back of Cris' neck, guiding him closer as he deepened the kiss, their tongues clashing and sending a jolt through Ricky's body. He leaned in, resting his weight on Cristiano's chest to grip his cock with his other hand. Cris moaned quietly, already heavy in his palm and Ricky started out slow, a steady motion of his arm making Cris squirm beneath him.

"Shhh, _meu bem_. We don't know this driver as well as Pedro" he whispered, breaking the kiss and putting his lips on Cris' neck, in that curve he so loved he sometimes dreamt of it. To him, that place where he always rested his head when they hugged had been home for the last fifteen years.  
  
He also knew that Cris loved having his neck kissed. Sometimes Ricky would spend hours focusing his whole attention on various places around Cristiano's ears and neck, all the way down to his collarbones, making this man made of steel mewl like a kitten. But now there was no time and honestly, he was too impatient to do anything else but bend down suddenly and lick a long, wide stripe along Cristiano's cock.  
  
Ricky felt the muscles of Cris' legs tense as he rested his hands on his thighs, making sure not to put pressure on the injured knee. He looked up to see Cris watching him intently, his eyes reflecting the flashes of the street lamps they were passing. Without breaking contact, Ricky opened his mouth and sucked the tip of Cristiano's cock before leaning down futher and taking the whole length in one smooth motion.

"Ahhh, _Deus..._ " Cris let the air leave his lungs in a heavy sigh and leaned back, his hands already clutching the bolster behind his head.  
  
Ricky bobbed his head a few times, swirling his tongue in long, precise pulls. He wanted it to be quick, not knowing how long they had before they arrived. Cris shifted, trying to throw his head back like he liked but the bolster was too wide for him to evade and he slammed his fist into the seat, a low groan leaving his throat.  
  
"Ricardo, I need you so much" he breathed as Ricky grabbed his cock at the base and popped his lips, looking up at him again.  
  
"I know, baby. Just wait until the party ends" Ricky promised and went straight back to it, his fingers massaging the pressure around Cris' balls and his cheeks hollowing when he let the tip of Cristiano's cock leave his mouth just to lick it up and down again in fast, regular motions.  
  
Cris froze, his body straining and loosening again and then he was coming with a shout as Ricky sped up his pace but still kept brushing Cris' lower belly with his nose, taking him in so deep he could feel the throbbing down his throat.  
  
When he came, Cris always looked so young, his face so relaxed and blank, as if they were still in their twenties, stealing hand jobs in locker rooms. Ricky kissed his inner thighs, sucking a hickey into his tanned skin.  
  
"Everybody is going to want a piece of you even more now" he said, waiting for Cris to come down from his high, his cock still twitching in a last effort to prolong the pleasure. "But who do you belong to?"  
  
He felt a wave of pride and craving wash over his body and into his groin as Cristiano made an obscene sound of relief and whispered: "You, Ricardo. Only you."

***

There were speeches, serious and goofy ones and then Jorge's standard performance of true art as he rambled on about family, success, friendship, patriotism and, strangely, the beauty of the iridescent chandelier that hung above them in the huge hall. Cris kept touching the Cup, making Ricky wonder if his relationship with it was healthy and when he went upstairs to tuck Junior into bed, he came back to Cris wearing it like a crown and dancing around the table.  
  
The champagne was so expensive that Ricky felt guilty sipping on it, the crowd in the hall getting smaller as the team said their goodbyes to rest before the flight the next day. Cris was talking to Hugo at the end of the table and Ricky smiled, seeing them laugh at something Jorge had said, Dolores dozing off contently on a chair next to them.

It was getting late and Ricky could see Cristiano's energy deflate by the minute. He got up and walked up to him, placing his hand on Cris' shoulder, and that was enough. They hugged Jorge and Hugo and walked Dolores upstairs, but Ricky stopped at her door and asked her to take their suite and keep an eye on Junior.  
  
"I've got something else planned for us" he explained at Cris' perplexed expression and led him to the elevator that took them up to the honeymoon suite on the top floor.  
  
"God, you snob, this isn't right. Everybody else is sleeping in regular luxurious rooms" Cris said, elbowing him in the ribs.  
  
"Well said by you and your ridiculous limo" Ricky snorted, slipping the keycard through the reader on the door, "Come on, nobody knows I did this and we need to relax. We'll be out of here before everyone else in the morning."  
  
It was Cristiano's turn to snort, but he didn't say anything about having to drag Ricky out of bed almost every day for the last ten years. They walked in and Ricky whistled, even though he had seen the suite before. It was truly something out of a fairytale, the wall-high windows of the enormous lounge creating an illusion of limitless space and the wooden, polished furniture glistening in the dulled light of a duplicate of the chandelier in the hall.  
  
There was also something that he hadn't arranged for and he frowned as he took in the sight of the biggest bouquet of white roses he had ever seen sitting on the glass table in the middle of the room. He walked up to it and took the card that rested between the vase and another bottle of champagne.  
  
_Dearest Ricardo_ , the card said in Cristiano's handwriting, _in the future don't tell my mother about your plans to surprise me - I've known her my whole life and I have ways to get information out of her. After Junior's birth, today is the proudest day of my life and I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for your hard work and undying support and for your glorious cock that I have had the privilage of adoring for so many years now that I can't believe how old we are. Just kidding. I love you with everything I have, now come here and give me a kiss. Yours always, Cristiano._  
  
Ricky laughed through the tears in his eyes, glancing up at that exceptional man that was leaning against the window, his arms folded as he waited for him to finish reading.  
  
"I thought you didn't agree with the idea of sleeping in the honeymoon suite, you filthy hypocrite" he mumbled, but the affection in his voice said it all and he leaped across the room to pull Cris into his arms and kiss him.  
  
"I love you too. We're going to have a lot of champagne to waste on pouring all over your body, though" Ricky said, taking Cris' hand and guiding him into the en-suite bathroom. The huge bath was steaming into the humid air and the swirls of the hot fumes were merging with the night view of Paris that gleamed with a million lights through another glass window. The surface of the water in the tub was covered in floating rose petals, red this time, and Cris laughed at the sight of a bowl with champagne chilling on ice.  
  
"Well you know the only booze I drink is the one I suck off your lips, _querido_. So I guess you're getting drunk tonight" he shrugged theatrically, sliding across the tiles to press himself against Ricky's body and play with the hem of his pants.  
  
Ricky stiffened, his own need still unsatisfied since they had been in the car, and put his hand on the small of Cris' back, letting it find it's way to his ass and grabbing a handful of it.   
  
"Take your clothes off" he whispered into Cris' ear and Cris did, carefully taking off the band off his knee and letting his clothes fall to the floor. He was a young god if the world ever saw one but when Ricky undressed too, Cris gave him the same look Ricky knew was on his own face.  
  
He popped the champagne, covering them in a mist of the sticky liquid and licked the sweetness off Cristiano's chest right up to his neck.   
  
" _Para Portugal_ " he said, pouring it into one glass and taking a sip.  
  
" _Para Portugal_ " Cris agreed and kissed it off Ricky's lips, "God, you're so hot, _bebê_. Come here" he murmured and put his hands on Ricky's chest, pushing him in the direction of the tub.

They dipped into the water, Cris letting out a breath of pleasure as his strained body relaxed in the heat. He moved, creating a small wave and settled between Ricky's legs, his whole weight resting on Ricky's chest.  
  
"I still can't believe this is happening" he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the view of the city.  
  
"I know, me neither. It must have been meant to be."  
  
Cris huffed, his body shaking with a laugh in Ricky's arms.  
  
"You and your poetry, I swear. It happened, because we scored and they didn't. And who's laughing now?" he smirked, straightening his leg and hissing quietly.  
  
"Does it still hurt?"  
  
"Not as much as before. I'll get it checked properly tomorrow, don't worry."  
  
They fell silent, Ricky drawing lines and circles into Cris' shoulders with his fingers and listening to his breathing that was getting heavier and heavier. After a while, Ricky realised that Cristiano was asleep and he smiled at how he could be a bolt of energy and sleep like a rock a minute later. He let himself fall into lethargy as well, his hand slipping off Cris' body and into the water.  
  
He was woken up by a shiver going through his limbs and the weight of Cris' lax body. The bath was cool now, so he turned on the hot water with his foot and kissed Cris' neck, biting into it lightly.  
  
"I knew that would wake you up" he grinned as Cristiano opened his eyes and looked up at him, disoriented.  
  
"Come on, let's wash all that football star sweat off."  
  
"I had a shower in the stadium" Cris protested faintly, letting Ricky push him away to wash his back and hair. Ricky smiled fondly, seeing the change in Cris- he was now his Cristiano, not better or worse than the one the world saw on the screen, but just _his_ , softer and not as fierce. He massaged the soap into his back and neck, Cris moaning obscenely under his touch.  
  
"I'm not even doing anything, God, contain yourself" Ricky laughed and turned him around to wash his chest and legs.  
  
"You know you love it when I moan" Cris replied, leaning back on his hands in the water as Ricky massaged his leg carefully, the way the physical therapists in the team's crew taught him.  
  
"Oh darling, you're not moaning yet" Ricky winked and felt a rush of need pour into every nerve of his body as he watched Cris' cock twitch. They really must be undercover teenagers still, he thought, getting turned on by cheap lines like that.  
  
He then quickly washed himself and they got out of the tub, putting on a pair of fluffy, white bath robes just for the heck of it. Cris went into the bedroom to set up a baby monitor in case Junior needed something, a habit he got into when Junior was an actual baby and one he probably wouldn't forsake until their son was 30 and married himself. Ricky came in after a few minutes, biting his lip to keep himself from commenting and took the machine out of Cris' hands to place it on the bedside table.  
  
"On the bed, baby" he said, undoing his robe, "I'm going to give you what you need."  
  
Cris obeyed without a word, pulling himself up on the cushions lazily, like a panther in the dark. He watched Ricky, roaming his gaze all over his body as Ricky knelt beside him.   
  
"And you're going to take what I give you like the champion you are" Ricky added and leaned down to connect their lips, softly at first and then fiercely, biting into Cris' lower lip and pulling it into his mouth.   
  
Cris extended his arms and grabbed Ricky's waist to lift him up but Ricky grabbed his hands to pin them down on the bed.  
  
"You're not in charge anymore, baby" he reminded and stranded Cris' hips, nipping his neck again and feeling shivers run down Cristiano's body as he pressed his fingers into the broad chest. He moved slightly, deliberately brushing his cock against Cristiano's and they both sucked in a breath.  
  
This was something they've been doing for years now and it worked. In his career, Cristiano dominated the field, he was to be feared and admired. He also dominated in his business and even in coversation, his persona a topic of controversy every other time he opened his mouth to speak. But sometimes, he needed to be relieved of all that, his strength too big of a burden to uphold every second of every day. In times like these, he turned into a different Cristiano that needed to be taken care of, to clear his brain and Ricky was always there to give him something to focus on.  
  
He gripped Cris' hips and turned his entire body around, not bothering to be gentle. Cris was relaxed, his physical power gone and he listened to the language of Ricky's moves, letting him do anything he thought best.  
  
Cris settled on his stomach, grabbing a pillow and sprawling his arms above his head. Ricky positioned himself between Cris' legs, pulling up his left, injured one to rest in a comfortable bend.  
  
"Is that okay?" he checked and when Cris murmured his approval, he added: "Good. Because this gives me perfect access to your ass. And you know how much I love your ass."  
  
Cris laughed and swallowed the sound right back into his throat as Ricky slapped his cheek and put his mouth straight to Cristiano's already fluttering hole.  
  
"Oh, dear _God_ " Cristiano moaned, trying to lift himself up but Ricky put his hand on his shoulders and pushed him back down gently this time, licking at his entrance and kneading at his ass.  
  
Cris tried to lift his hips even closer to Ricky's mouth and Ricky pulled away to take a pillow and place it under Cristiano's pelvis, making sure to take hold of his cock and tug a few times. He gripped Cris' thigh and with a whisper of "keep still", he sucked into the plump flesh of his ass, watching the red mark fade away after a few seconds.  
  
"Ricardo, please..." Cris mumbled into the pillow and Ricky slapped him again, hard enough to sting.  
  
"What did I say, Cris?"  
  
"To keep still."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Take what you give me."  
  
"Exactly" Ricky agreed and spanked him again, correcting his handprint that was already blooming on Cris' ass.  
  
He leaned down and placed a hand on Cris' back, circling his fingers around his rim, slapping him occasionally until Cris was compliant enough to stop squirming trying to get him to put his fingers inside him. It wasn't about the pain, Ricky didn't exactly enjoy _hurting_ Cristiano, but he knew that by now his boy was floating somewhere in a space in his head where he felt safe and completely free of any coherent thoughts. The muffled, but content whimpers Cris made every time Ricky brought down his hand proved that point even further - in fact Cris was beggining to grind down on the pillow, trying to get some friction.  
  
"Babe, please, more" he moaned into his hands, wiggling his ass that was now a light shade of pink for Ricky to admire.  
  
"No, you've had enough" Ricky said, keeping in mind that tomorrow was a big day of returning to Portugal, but he didn't say it - now was not the time to think about that. He focused on Cris' rim, pushing one finger in and bending his fingers to feel the throbbing bundle of nerves.  
  
Cristiano threw his head back and almost screamed into the pillow, the movement of his hips getting faster and faster. Ricky hovered over him, sliding his cock up and down Cris' ass, but not entering him yet. He added another finger and then another, scissoring them until Cris was a babbling mess, the only coherent word being _please_.  
  
Ricky decided they both wouldn't last much longer, his own cock throbbing against Cristiano's thighs. He reached to the bedside table and opened the drawer to take out a bottle of lube he had arranged to be unpacked with the rest of their bags (if somebody asked he would never admit he had trusted people for that too).   
  
He put his fingers inside Cris' body again, feeling him stretch impossibly as he writhed beneath him. Then, he slicked up his own cock and had to control himself not to come from that alone, the sight of Cristiano's body stretching for miles as it seemed across the bed enough to make Ricky too impatient to cope.  
  
"Shhh, baby. I've got you" Ricky whispered and put his arms around Cris' shoulders, gripping firmly as he pushed in slowly right to the top of his balls.  
  
Cristiano moaned, properly this time like Ricky knew he would, a low growl in his throat, broken by the impact of Ricky's sudden thrust. Cris moved, connecting with Ricky's body every time he fucked into him with his brows furrowed in concentration.  
  
"Grab the headboard, baby" Rick panted into Cris' ear, "I don't want you to hit your head."  
  
Cris did as he was told, taking hold of the iron bars of the ornamental headboard. Ricky grabbed his hips, bruising his fingers into Cris' flesh and pounded into him with a groan, the heat pooling into his lower abdomen faster than he could even register.  
  
"Fuck!" Cris screamed when Ricky hit his prostate head-on and didn't stop, looking over Cristiano's broad back and admiring the thin layer of sweat glistening on his skin.  
  
"Ricardo, I'm going to -"  
  
"No, you're not" Ricky stopped and pulled out, patting Cris on the side, "Turn over, baby. I want to see your face."  
  
And Cris' face was fucking perfection, a lovely blush of pink on his cheeks and his eyes watery and hazy like he couldn't keep focus. Ricky leaned down to kiss him hard on the lips, tasting the salty sweat. He pushed in again, slower this time and buried his face in his favourite spot on Cris' neck for a few seconds before pulling away to grip his cock.  
  
"Do you know who I'm fucking right now?" he asked, circling his hips.  
  
"The love of your life and the father of your child?" Cris answered with a question, having to take a breath between each word.  
  
"God, speak of being sappy. That too. But also, the guy who wore the European Cup like a fucking crown" it took him longer than normal to say that sentence, his concentration heading only to his cock that was so deep inside Cris that he felt like he no longer recognized the boundaries between their bodies.  
  
Cris laughed, a tired but real laugh as if he had forgotten what happened earlier in the day. He slid his arm down his chest to take Ricky's hand and held onto it as he moved beneath him.

"Oh God, I can't, I have to..." he mumbled as Ricky sped up his pace again, pushing Cris' hand into the bed to support his weight.  
  
"Not yet, baby" Rick breathed, grabbing Cris' cock at the base and feeling his own body tense. He watched Cristiano's face as they moved together and he let go, tugging a few times until Cris raised himself on the bed with a fucking _shout_ and came so hard he clenched the sheets, pulling them up almost completely into his fists.  
  
Ricky groaned at the sight and chased his own orgasm, coming seconds later and falling onto Cris' chest. He was still inside him as they lied there for a few seconds, completely silent.  
  
"Cris?" he asked after a while and lifted his head.  
  
"God, baby, I needed that so much" Cris mewled, brushing his hand through Ricky's hair.  
  
"I know. You always do" Ricky took his face into his hands and kissed him until Cris closed his eyes again, his body still not moving as he lazily moved his lips against Ricky's.  
  
"Sleep, love. I'll be here in a minute."  
  
When he packed their bags to earn some time in the morning for a quick round two, he thought of the upcoming days with a new thrill in his chest. Tomorrow, they will fly back to Portugal and celebrate not only their victory, but their country and a moment of unity in the blazing sun of Lisbon. Cris will sing and dance and shout until his voice gives in and Ricky will laugh at him being unable to properly yell his signature _suuuuui_ at the end of the parade, but the crowds will do the job for him. Later, they will take Junior home to the house in Madeira and pile up on the couch, Junior between them as they watch a Disney film, but one of the old, good ones because Cris will not stand for that "modern, valueless crap" and Ricky could only hope that both his boys would fall asleep next to him so he can watch them breathe peacefully together, father and son. After a while he will wake them up and they will carry Junior to his room, Cris singing a terrible rendition of _Ai, se eu te pego_  just because he knows that Ricky hates that song and for that or maybe because of that, he will fuck Cris into their mattress until they fall asleep. The next day, they will make arrangements for a long, private holiday where Cris will fish and Ricky will cook and Junior will drive them both crazy with countless pleadings for a pet turtle until they cave in and Cris calls it Payet with that signature smirk on his lips.  
  
And then, after they've had their rest, it will all start all over again.


End file.
